


Post-It

by cherryblossomphil



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryblossomphil/pseuds/cherryblossomphil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan doesn’t handle solitude very well, so when Phil leaves for a five-day family reunion, he’s got a tough week ahead of him. Good thing his boyfriend is super creative with his office supplies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-It

**Day One:**

> _8:32 am_

The bed feels cold when Dan wakes up.

He groans, reaching across the mattress in search of the warm, pale skin and silky black hair he’s so used to feeling beneath his fingertips, but his hand finds nothing except for the cool underside of the duvet.  Dan sleepily blinks his eyes open to see an empty space beside him.

 _Oh right_. Phil’s gone.

Well, not  _gone_  gone. Just on vacation.

Rolling onto his back, Dan sighs and rubs his face wearily. He vaguely remembers Phil waking him up two – no,  _three_  hours earlier, backpack slung over his shoulder and luggage in hand. He remembers sluggishly walking down the stairs and seeing him off, kissing Phil long and hard before the other boy pulls away laughing, saying how he’s gonna miss the train if Dan keeps that up. He remembers the pounding headache that draws him back to bed once Phil’s left, exhaustion overpowering the anxiety already creeping into his heart at his boyfriend’s absence.

Now that he’s awake, there’s nothing stopping the ache of loneliness from seeping into his body. The flat seems huge and intimidating, like all the warmth and familiarity of it had followed Phil to his parents’ house for Martyn’s birthday. Dan’s never been good by himself; he needs someone there, someone to block out the lingering whispers of self-doubt and sadness that have plagued him for so long. And Phil has always been his someone, swooping in with silly made-up songs and awful puns until Dan can’t hear the voices over the deep timbre of Phil’s laugh.

It’s gotten to the point where being alone makes him physically  _hurt_ , the pain in his chest growing with each passing day away from Phil. It’s stupid, and Dan knows it. He’s fucking twenty-three years old, he can survive by himself for a few days. But that doesn’t stop the sadness from settling in his bones, zapping the life out of him and leaving him practically useless until Phil returns.

He knows Phil worries about him; every year, he always asks Dan to come up with him. The Lesters love him, he says. He’s always more than welcome to join, he says. And every year, Dan declines. They spend enough time together as it is, he says. I’ll be fine, go have fun with your brother, he says.

He lies.

Dan wants nothing more than to stay cooped up in bed all day, the smell of Phil’s cologne on the sheets making him feel somewhat better. He wants to wallow in his sadness and throw himself the biggest pity party on the planet, but he’s got five and a half million emails to answer, twice as many book things to finish, and at least seven video ideas to draft. He should at least  _try_  to be productive.

The cold air makes his skin pebble as he slides out of bed. Dan yawns, hyper aware of the sound of his feet padding across the carpet and the tick of the clock that’s obnoxiously loud in the otherwise silent room.  He’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making his way out of the bedroom when he sees it; a line of orange paper squares stuck to the door.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion.  _Are those… post-it notes?_ Leaning forward, he rests his forearm against the wood for balance as he squints at the tiny writing scrawled across the paper.

“ _Good morning, Dan!”_

The brunet can’t help but smile as he recognizes the familiar handwriting.

_“Sorry for waking you up earlier – just wanted a kiss goodbye before heading off. Look, I know you said not to worry about you, but you know me. I want to be sure you’re doing okay, so if there’s anything wrong please please **please**_ _skype me. I always tell you to and you never listen, so promise me, alright?”_

Dan rolls his eyes. He’s not gonna call Phil – even if the third “please” has been traced over so many times it’s dark and bold compared to the rest of the sentence.  He doesn’t wanna be  _that_ guy who ruins their boyfriend’s vacation because they’re needy as fuck and can’t handle being by themselves for a week. Dan brushes the hair from his eyes and keeps reading.

_“Now I know what you’re thinking, so stop that. You are not going to ruin my vacation if you skype me. In fact, I’ll enjoy it. It’ll be just like the old times ;)_

_I love you so much, don’t ever forget that. And by the time you read this, I’ll already be missing you more than you’ll ever know. Don’t worry, I’ll be back home in five days – you won’t even know I’m gone._

_xxx  
Phil”_

Of course his boyfriend would do something like this - no matter how hard he denied it, Phil was always more of the romantic one. The brunet feels his heart warm as he rereads the post-its, the cold weight of loneliness thawing with every word. He’s gonna be okay. It’s just five days.

Dan touches the paper squares fondly before heading to the kitchen.

> _10:18 am_

Things had been fine at first, the sweetness of Phil’s note still fresh in his mind. He had two mugs of coffee and a bit of porridge. He answered three of the five and a half million emails, and he even took a shower. But he should’ve known his good mood wouldn’t last for very long.

Dan huffs in annoyance as he runs his hands through his newly straightened hair. He’s got a meeting at the BBC in 45 minutes and his fringe refuses to cooperate with him, falling across his forehead at odd angles.  He’s also reconsidering his outfit choice; he’s not sure what he was thinking when he perused through his closet, but the black of his t-shirt is two shades darker than the black of his jeans and it’s beginning to drive Dan insane. He looks ridiculous - he needs to go change right now. And fix his hair again. And maybe put in his earrings.

He turns towards the door but stops in his tracks at the sight of another post-it stuck on the wood – lime green, this time. Dan moves closer to read it.

_“You are absolutely gorgeous.”_

The brunet blushes, the written words making his heart flutter just as hard as they would’ve had he heard them from Phil himself. He reaches up to pull the note off the wall, eyes widening in surprise when he realizes that the post-it is actually a  _group_  of post-its. He flips the first note over to see the second one, intrigued.

 _“You look so hot in that outfit. I’m such a lucky guy.”_  
“Stop messing with your hair, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”  
“ Smile. Your dimples are cute.”  
“Nice ass ;)”

Dan snorts at the last one, flipping through the booklet of post-its. There’s five in all; Phil had written him a note for every day he’d be gone. Dan’s grin is so wide, it’s starting to hurt his cheeks. He carefully peels off the first note and sticks it in his back pocket, replacing the rest of the post-its on the door for him to read the next morning. With another glance at the mirror, he takes a deep breath and leaves the bathroom. His shirt’s still the wrong shade of his black, and his hair is already starting to curl, but Phil thinks he’s gorgeous.

He can live with gorgeous.

* * *

**Day Two:**

> _1:28 am_

He’s been pacing for hours.

That’s the trouble when Phil’s away. There’s no one there to sit quietly with him as he rants on about the meaningless of life, no one there to guide him gently by the shoulders to the bed and waffle about the most random topics until his brain forgets about the inevitability of death and he can fall asleep. He’s tired – extremely so. It’s been a long day, but there’s no rest for those prone to existential crises. Dan’s walked the length of his bedroom 384 times since ten o’clock, and he doesn’t think he’ll be stopping anytime soon.

It’s a mid-internal freak out that he realizes he should probably change clothes. He’s still wearing his outfit from the BBC meeting, having been too caught up in his thoughts to bother undressing. His jeans are starting to chafe and he feels sweaty and gross, so Dan sighs and trudges over to his dresser, yanking at the top drawer handle. A flash of neon blue catches his eye as he pulls his shirt over his head and he pauses, staring down at the open drawer.

Resting on top of his usual array of black and grey pajamas are Phil’s Cookie Monster pjs, with what Dan assumes is his boyfriend’s green tiger shirt peeking out from underneath. A blue post-it is stuck directly over one of the Cookie Monster faces, and he picks it up.

_“You need some more color in your life, Howell :)  
Since I’m not there, these will have to do!”_

Dan sets the note down on top of the dresser and grabs Phil’s pajamas. He never wears shirts to bed –  _ever_. But the fabric smells of Phil, and it makes his heart sting in a  _good_  way, so he pops open the button of his jeans and shucks them off before pulling his boyfriend’s clothes on.

They’re too loose at the shoulders and too short at the legs, but it feels like a much-needed hug and he sighs in contentment. Dan yawns widely and crosses the room once more, flicking off the lights and crawling into bed.

He doesn’t know how Phil knew something as simple as a pair of pajamas would help his mind calm down. Maybe he didn’t even plan it, and it was just a coincidence. The brunet makes a mental note to ask Phil when he gets back, then slowly drifts off to sleep.

> _4:07 pm_

Dan shuffles into the kitchen, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to relieve the usual cramps that settle between his joints after long editing sessions. He’s been at it since 2pm; the software won’t quit glitching and erasing his progress. He can’t figure out why his jumpcuts keep lasting seven and a half decades. The sound of his own voice makes him cringe more than usual, and he’s not sure if there’s a problem with his lighting set up or if he’s just gotten paler since the last time he uploaded. His head is throbbing. Time for a break.

He wants something sweet – editing does that to him. Only the comments on his last video had focused primarily on the pudge of his stomach, the fullness of his face. He doesn’t have the metabolism of a 19 year old anymore, and it’s starting to show. Dan tries not to let it bother him, but he can’t help the pang of shame that strikes whenever he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, or the guilt he feels when he binge snacks while watching TV. It’s a habit he’s not yet broken - and it’s harder to break when there’s no one home to tell him to stop.

Dan sighs. Some fruit will have to do. He has to start somewhere, right?

There’s a bowl of apples by the sink. Dan grabs one with reluctance, dislodging the others until he sees a sliver of pink paper stuck underneath the fruit.  Quirking an eyebrow, he sets the apple aside and pries the post-it loose.

_“You’ve been editing, haven’t you? Can’t wait to watch it!  
Go to the pantry and check behind the maple syrup, I got you something…”_

Dan smiles. Phil knows him too well – he’d be a bit scared if it wasn’t endearing. The brunet turns on his heel and shuffles over to the pantry, pulling open the cupboard door and laughing in surprise. There, tucked behind the maple syrup and the stir fry sauce is a box of Maltesers, the bright red unmistakable even with another post-it stuck over the logo. Dan reaches up and pulls it out of the pantry, eyes scanning the note quickly.

_“In the wise words of Aziz Ansari, TREAT YO SELF! :)  
Seriously, I bet you’ve been working your butt off, take a snack break._

_p.s. I may have eaten some already before I left. Please don’t hate me.”_

Upon further inspection, Dan notices that the box is indeed already open. He shakes his head fondly. Of course Phil ate some already - it’d be more surprising if he hadn’t. With another chuckle, Dan pries the box open and pulls out some chocolate, popping them into his mouth as he makes his way back to his room. There’s still the video to finish, but he deserves this. Screw those comments – he’s fine. And the Maltesers taste fucking great. He’ll have to call Phil and thank him.

But maybe after a few episodes of Cowboy Bebop.

* * *

**Day Three:**

> _12:17 pm_

He’s not surprised when Louise calls. Phil usually enlists her help whenever he plans on leaving for extended periods of time. Dan’s come to expect a ring from her around the halfway point of his time alone, asking him to come over and catch up. It’s sweet of her, but he never does; he doesn’t want to be a burden. Also, it’s usually around this time that Dan enters his hermit phase, when his loneliness makes him want to do nothing but curl up on his couch and watch sad movies until he cries his face off. Louise is great, but she’s already got one baby to deal with. No need to add another.

Dan lets his phone go to voicemail, feeling slightly guilty. She means well, he knows she does. But right now, he doesn’t want to interact with any human beings. Right now, all he wants is a bowl of popcorn and a movie so heart-wrenchingly sad, the feels it gives him are strong enough to drown out the pain of missing Phil.

With a sigh, Dan trudges across his lounge and scans their collection of DVDs. Two more days – what movie will tide him over for two more days? A title in the far right corner catches his eye:  _Never Let Me Go_.

Perfect.

He pulls the box from the shelf, moving to kneel in front of the TV. Dan pops the box open, ready to cry his eyes out, but finds it empty save for a small yellow post-it note that falls to the ground. He narrows his eyes, grabbing it off the floor with a huff.

“ _Sad movies are only acceptable to watch when someone’s there to make fun of your crying face. Go call Louise back. Human interaction is a good thing, sometimes. I want a full report on how Darcy’s doing when I get return.”_

Dan rolls his eyes in annoyance. He knows he’s being petulant, but he can’t bring himself to care. He loves Phil, truly he does, but this is ridiculous. If he wants to watch sad movies all day with the curtains drawn, then  _dammit_  that’s what he’s gonna do. Who’s gonna stop him?

The brunet chucks the empty DVD case onto the couch as he stands up, heading back to the shelf to pick out another movie.  _Brokeback Mountain_  is the first thing that falls in sight, and he grabs it with more vigor than necessary -he just wants to wallow in his misery in  _peace_ , for fuck’s sake. The DVD box feels lighter than usual, and Dan groans in frustration when he opens it to find another post-it note.

_“Dan, I’m serious. I love you, you know that right? And the thought of you torturing yourself like this makes my heart hurt. Go hang out with Louise. Please? For me? ”_

A twinge of guilt runs through Dan’s heart. Phil’s right – of course he’s right. This isn’t the healthiest way to deal with his loneliness. And over the course of six years and countless Lester family reunions, not once has it ever made him feel better. Some time out of the flat might do him some good.

He grabs his phone off the coffee table as he heads to his room, sliding his finger over the missed call notification. If he’s dressed in ten minutes, he can get to Louise’s by half-past two.

* * *

**Day Four:**

> _11:57 pm_

If Dan’s honest with himself, one of the biggest reasons he hates having Phil on vacation is the impact it has on their sex life.

It’s usually pretty good; they’re both fit, healthy twenty-something year olds, after all. That’s the problem – thanks to the longevity and nature of their relationship, Dan’s become used to getting some action at least once a week. More than once, actually; it’s amazing how his boyfriend can be nearing thirty and still have the stamina of a twenty-two year old.

God, their sex life is  _amazing_.

So when Phil’s away, Dan’s entire being aches – mentally, emotional, and, well…  _physically_. It’s embarrassing, really. He always tries to hold off, but when his body’s used to having certain needs fulfilled on a weekly basis, there’s not much else he can do but comply.

He’s tucked underneath his sheets in nothing but a clean pair of Phil’s pajamas, laptop propped against a stack of pillows beside him. Dan pulls up an incognito tab – he’s not new at this; Phil goes on _a lot_  of family vacations. Typing in the website, the brunet bites his lip as dozens of x-rated videos fill the screen. There’s nothing that really catches his interest - the writhing bodies onscreen looking more forced and awkward than enjoyable. But it’ll have to do for now. He can’t wait until Phil gets back.

Dan fumbles to grab the handle of his bedside drawer, the dimness of his room making it hard to see. He finally manages to get it open and reaches in, hand closing around a familiar bottle. Triumphant, he pulls it out to see a purple post-it stuck to the front. Dan blushes profusely, holding it underneath his laptop screen to read the note.

_“Get out your laptop._

_My Files – >_ _My Documents – >_ _The Amazing Book is Not on Fire – >_ _Chapter Four_

_Have fun! ;) ”_

Confused, the brunet sits up, setting the lube down beside him and pulling his laptop to rest across his knees. He closes his internet tab and follows the instructions Phil left him, clicking through his files until he reaches the fourth folder of their book.

Inside, hidden among word documents and picture files, is another folder labeled “SURPRISE”. Dan’s eyebrows shoot up. He doesn’t remember making that. Intrigued, he clicks it.

A row of videos pop up – five in all. The first thumbnail shows Phil smiling cheekily at the camera with his glasses on and his hair pushed up in a quiff. The next one shows him reclining in bed, hands ghosting across his bare chest. And the third one shows him completely naked, head thrown back as his hand wraps around his -

Dan’s eyes widen. “ _Holy shit.“_

He scrambles to pick up the lube and pops it open with shaking fingers, using his free hand to click on the first video. Phil’s face fills his screen, and he groans in anticipation.

He watches all of them twice.

* * *

**Day Five:**

> _3:45 pm_

“You’re absolutely mental, you know that, right?”

Phil laughs, the sound coming across tinny and distorted over Dan’s crappy iMac speakers. It’s weird, seeing him over Skype; they haven’t done this in years. Phil’s much older since the last time they did this – his hair’s shorter, his face is leaner. He looks like a proper  _man_  now, not the awkward twenty-two year old Dan first fell in love with.

Dan still thinks he looks breathtaking.

“You loved it,” the other boy chuckles, flipping his fringe out of his face He’s in the family guest room; Dan can see his old stuff in the background.  “I bet you watched them all twice.”

Dan blushes at his statement. “Well, can you blame me? It was fucking hot, Phil, Jesus Christ. When did you even have time to make that?”

Phil wiggles his eyebrows, the lag of the camera making the action look ridiculous. “I have my ways. Did you delete them?”

“Excuse me? Of course not, why the hell would I delete them? That is some  _high quality_  wank material, don’t wanna lose that.”

“Well, okay, just make sure no one else finds it. I don’t think we can play that off as another April Fool’s joke.”

Dan snorts. “In the middle of May? Yeah, probably not. Don’t worry, I’ve got it encrypted and password protected on a flashdrive locked in the safe inside our storage closet. Your secret porn star videos are safe with me.”

Phil groans. “Stop calling them porn star videos. They were  _not_  porn star videos.”

“Phil, you literally stared at the camera while getting yourself off. That is  _textbook_  porn star action.”

“Glad to know my hard work was appreciated.”

“Oh, it definitely was.” Dan smiles softly at the sound of his boyfriend’s laughter. “I miss you.”

Phil sighs, returning the smile. He reaches his hand out; Dan knows he’s touching the computer screen. “I miss you, too. I’ll be home tomorrow morning, though.”

The brunet nods, reaching his own hand out to mimic Phil’s action. “I know. I can’t wait to see you. Finally hear your voice again instead of reading all of those damn post-it notes.”

“You didn’t like them?” Phil gasps, pulling his hand back and placing it over his heart in faux horror. “I spent so much time on those!”

Dan shakes his head fondly. “Of course I liked them, you git. They were so fucking cheesy, though. And I fully expect you to replace all the sad DVDs you stole from me.”

“Got you out of the flat, though, didn’t it?” Phil winks. “I am such a good boyfriend. I should get an award.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dan chuckles. “But seriously, thank you. I really appreciated it. I can’t believe you took the time to do that.”

The other boy shrugs. “I’d do anything for you.”

Dan’s heart constricts at the words, but before he can reply, he hears a noise coming from Phil’s end. He sees his boyfriend look towards the door and reply before turning back towards the camera.

“Sorry, my mum’s calling me for tea. I’ll text you later, yeah?”

Dan nods. “I love you.”

Phil smiles back. “I love you more.”  

The camera blinks off and Dan’s left staring at a black screen. He sighs. Just one more day – and not even that, just sixteen more hours. He needs to keep himself occupied, and then Phil will be home and everything will be alright.

Dan stands up and walks over to his piano. Some music might work – it’s been a while since he last played, and he’s been dying to learn something new. Plus, he’s constantly being asked to play during his live shows. He needs to get back at it.

He sits down at the bench and flips open the lid to see a bright orange square stuck across the keys. He grins, plucking it off the ivories.

_“Can’t wait to come home! I miss my bear :( “_

T-minus sixteen hours.

* * *

**Day Six:**

> _7:53 am_

Dan’s already waiting by the door when Phil arrives, pulling him into a tight hug before the other boy even rings the buzzer.

“ _Oof-_ Hi, there,” Phil chuckles, drawing him closer. “Missed me, didn’t you?”

“You have no idea,” Dan mumbles into his neck. “How was Martyn’s birthday?”

“S’fine. Everything’s good in the house of Lester. It’s great to be back home, though.”

The brunet hums in agreement, pulling away to press a chaste kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “It’s great to _have_ you back home. As much as I loved the post-its, I must say I prefer having you around to complement my arse in person.”

Phil snorts, moving his hands to rest on Dan’s hips. “You liked that one, did you? You found them all, then?”

Dan nods, reaching up to brush back Phil’s fringe. “I think so. There was the one in the fruit bowl, the one in the piano, the one in the- hang on,” He catches sight of a small blue square stuck to the back of the front door. “Aww, Phil, I didn’t know you put one behind the front door!”

“Huh?” Phil’s eyebrows draw together. “But I didn’t put one on the-?” He spins around to squint at the note. The familiar handwriting is slightly smudged, and he laughs.

_“Welcome back, Phil!_

_Thank god you’re home – the past five days have literally been torture. Good thing your notes were here to cheer me up! I missed you so much, and I’m so glad your back._

_You know what else missed you so much?_

_My bed._

_Let’s go tell it you’re home.”_

Behind him, Phil hears the sound of Dan running up the stairs. He grins widely, shucking off his coat and shoes as fast as possible before following suit. His stuff is still in the stairwell and he should probably call his mum to let her know he got home safely, but that can all wait.

He’s got a boyfriend he hasn’t seen in five days.


End file.
